


the space between stars

by nightdotlight



Series: Jedi June 2020 [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Meditation, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24848599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightdotlight/pseuds/nightdotlight
Summary: Tup sits on the floor, legs crossed in front of him, and tries desperately to reach the Force. Repeats the mantra under his breath, over and over again, but he can’t find it, the sense of sunlight and lightly falling rain just out of reach, and he’s so frustrated he could nearly cry.If he were on Kamino, tears would be met by good-natured mocking and jibes, followed by the nearest of his ori’vode coming over to comfort him. He’s only six, after all, twelve in nat-born years, and he’s got a reputation among his brothers for being softer than most, to boot.
Relationships: Shaak Ti & CT-5385 | Tup
Series: Jedi June 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776460
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	the space between stars

**Author's Note:**

> day six: meditation/mindfulness

_ The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force. _

Tup sits on the floor, legs crossed in front of him, and tries desperately to reach the Force. Repeats the mantra under his breath, over and over again, but he can’t find it, the sense of sunlight and lightly falling rain just out of reach, and he’s so frustrated he could nearly cry.

If he were on Kamino, tears would be met by good-natured mocking and jibes, followed by the nearest of his  _ ori’vode _ coming over to comfort him. He’s only six, after all, twelve in nat-born years, and he’s got a reputation among his brothers for being softer than most, to boot.

It has the effect of making him  _ vod’ika _ to many, many people, and while that’s not in itself a bad thing— he loves his brothers, in a way that feels like sunlight in his chest— he knows he can’t lean on them forever. He needs to be more independent, needs to be able to function on his own regardless of whether there are  _ vode _ around or not, and if anything was going to prove that, the last couple months were it.

It’s been three months since the training exercise that left him stranded on Arkanis, half-drowned and unable to do anything save watch the tide rise slowly until it would cover him, and in that time he hasn’t seen a single brother.

Stranded, rescued, and unable to return to Kamino— the last one  _ regrettable, but necessary, _ if he were to quote his rescuer. His return would inspire... questions, namely how and why he’s still alive, and Master Shaak had quietly told him that no, the Jedi Order did not know of his existence, and as such it was important to move cautiously forward.

Part of that, she had said, was not acknowledging the clone army until it either became needed or the High Council could properly trace its origins. Preferably the second before the first, but—

Master Shaak had warned him, however gently, of the growing unrest in the galaxy. Had said that darkness clouded the horizon, and along with the existence of the clone army he had been created for, pieced together an unsettling picture.

Regardless of the reasons, the outcome is the same. Tup is barred from Kamino, his existence is a secret from the Galactic Senate, and Jedi Master Shaak Ti intends to make him her Padawan Learner.

Which brings him to his current predicament. Master Shaak said he might have trouble connecting to the Force on his own this early in his apprenticeship, told him that he needn’t worry about failing her or not being good enough, but— that’s not what’s driving him in this.

Tup isn’t worried about disappointing her— she’s a Jedi, and every day he learns a little more about what that means, for her and for him, and the role he’s slowly learning to step into.

He’s not concerned about failing his Master, but— he isn’t satisfied with just being good enough. He wants to excel, wants to make her proud.

Wants to be the best Jedi he can be, because he knows he can do it, and Master Shaak—

So does she. She believes in him, unconditionally, in a way that nobody outside his brothers ever has.

The long-necks don’t care for them in any real capacity, just in the way that a business owner cares for their stocks and profits. Tup’s always been very aware that he’s just a means to an end. And— his brothers mean well, but ever since he was old enough to be aware, he’s been almost smothered by every older clone he’s crossed paths with, and some of his own batch too. It’s well-intentioned, of course; but he can’t help but feel, just sometimes, like they don’t think he can do things on his own— don’t respect his abilities, as they would do other clones.

But Shaak— she had taken one look at him, and had treated him differently— entirely unlike the long-necks or the  _ vode _ . Had taken one look at Tup, small and skinny and scared, and had seen not just vulnerability but  _ potential _ . Someone to be protected, yes, but also someone to be nurtured. Who could fight not just for themselves, but for others, she had said, and in her voice there was faith, and something like  _ certainty _ .

Master Shaak thinks Tup could be a Jedi.

More than anything, he wants to prove her right.

But meditation is  _ hard _ , especially without her to help him sink into the currents of the Force: no matter how hard he tries, how much he focuses on the sensations of sunlight on skin and light rain on his shoulders and head until they’re as if under a microscope, understood down to the very molecules, every time he tries to truly feel the Force, he’s shoved out, pushed away. He surfaces coughing and spluttering, mentally exhausted, and having made no progress to speak of.

He’s steeling himself for another attempt, drawing on his determination in a silent plea of  _ please, please, let it just work this time, _ more frustrated than he’s sure he’s ever been, when there’s a voice from behind him.

“Tup?”

It’s Master Shaak, because of course it is. Tup turns; knows his face has fallen into something quietly miserable, because her eyes widen in gentle concern, but he can’t find the energy to correct it.

“I could feel your distress,” she says, patient, and then, noting the position he’s taken on the decking, “are you struggling with meditation?”

Tup knows his face crumples, and he nods just once, frustrated tears welling at the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t want to cry, has no idea what’s got him so emotional, but—

He’s struggling, and he’s further away from home than he’s ever been. His brothers probably— definitely— think he’s dead, so he has no idea how Dogma is doing and if Rex is blaming himself for not being there because he hadn’t been able to come along on the survival simulation. He’s tired, he hasn’t seen a brother in months, and he wants to do right by Master Shaak and he was trying and he couldn’t do it—

His tears have long since passed the point of being able to be choked back and now they’re running down his face and he hates it, doesn’t like the way his eyes burn and his break hitches and sobs, and he just wants to go to sleep except he also wants to get this right.

Master Shaak crouches in front of him, folds him into her arms. “Peace, Tup,” she says. 

That’s something she’s done for him, too. When she first found him, she’d seemed reserved, hadn’t initiated touch beyond the initial pulling him to his feet and putting the cursory bacta patch on where he had cut or scraped himself. But somewhere around the end of the first week, when the lack of physical contact had just started to get to Tup, whose life had until then been filled with casual, comforting touch, she’d started to initiate more. Small things, like dropping a hand on his shoulder when standing beside him, or embracing him whenever the reality of his situation became too much to bear.

She’s done it more and more over the time since; now, Tup doesn’t hesitate to lean into her body, salty water dampening her robes as he hides his face in her shoulder.

His emotions bleed into the Force, and around him, Master Shaak’s presence rises to meet them. A swelling, like a river taking rain, and it’s calm and quite comforting. Doesn’t stifle his emotions, just warms him as they rage, helps him to keep his head above water. They roar, and writhe against both Tup and his master in the Force, but their decomposition is a fast, steady thing. Like a wildfire, they burn out, and in the aftermath he feels quite placid and almost empty.

Master Shaak pulls back slightly, cups his face with her hand. Her skin is ever-so-slightly warmer than his, a side-effect of Togrutan metabolism, and her grey eyes search his. From her end of their training bond, Tup feels something similar, a comforting brush of her presence against his. Seemingly reassured, she draws back to kneel opposite him.

“Meditation can be difficult to achieve when alone, especially when you are stressed,” she says. “Would you like my aid in trying to touch the Force, Tup?”

He hesitates. “Master Ti, I—“

Once more, she reaches out to place her hand on his shoulder. “If you do not wish to, there is no shame in wanting to wait and recover before trying again,” she says. “There is no harm in resting, mentally or physically, before you open your mind to the Force again.”

He knows, and deep down he really, truly just wants to rest, but—

—he wants to do right by Shaak, more than anything else he’s ever wanted to do.

Her eyes widen, as if sensing or coming to a realisation, and from where their minds are linked, a sensation of warmth bleeds into Tup’s mind.

“Tup,” she chides, gentle, “you could never disappoint me. And more than that—“ she silences him with a gesture to wait when he opens his mouth to argue— “you already make me proud— in every way, more so than you could ever know.”

“You don’t need to worry about doing right by me, Tup, because you have already done so.”

It hits like a gut punch, or some form of ending, and he folds. Lets his shoulders slump forward, and leans just slightly towards Master Shaak, and she gathers him towards her, holds him close, and—

There they stay. It’s quiet, and calm, and not quite meditation, but it’s comfort, something Tup’s needed greatly ever since that doomed survival simulation those months ago, and for now it’s enough.

Shaak’s quiet and centred in the Force, like a lodestone or anchor that Tup can wrap around, and it’s enough.

Tup doesn’t meditate, afterwards. He rests instead, and when he next opens his eyes, in what the ship’s clock says must be early evening, his mind is still empty, but— without the sharp edges of before. This clarity is pacific, comforting, and—

In the back of his mind, near where his and Shaak’s thoughts mingle, there’s a soft whisper.

He goes to Master Shaak, then. Looks at her, and settles into the meditation position she first showed him; legs crossed, feet tucked under. So does she, then, and with her gentle touch guiding him outward, Tup opens his mind—

The Force is rain on his shoulders, in Kamino, and the blazing sun of Tatooine. Vast, and all-encompassing, like the space between stars, and in that moment— Tup can feel everything. Even the currents welcome him, flowing in and through him, and where they touch him he can feel the impressions of purpose, promise, the future and what must be.

_Chaos, yet harmony,_ Shaak’s thoughts press softly at him. _This is what we teach the younglings. There is another version, used mainly as a mantra, but we will use this one for now._

_Chaos, yet harmony,_ Tup repeats to himself. _Chaos, yet harmony,_ and commits it to memory. Somehow, something in him always knew it, because in him something recognises the words as a truth, anchors that clarity and emptiness inside him to the phrase. The Force is everywhere, everything, and Tup is part of it, now, and—

He smiles.

_I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me._

**Author's Note:**

> listen I wrote the first part of this for day four, realised it was not really what I was looking for, and put it to one side. turns out me-of-a-week-ago had more sense than me today.
> 
> the idea of Shaak Ti training Tup is entirely inspired by @blackkat, whose fics are absolutely mind-blowing so you should definitely read them if you haven’t already!


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